


Get Out Alive

by Rhapsoddity



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Dystopia, Gen, Minecraft, Minecraft Manhunt, dont worry i dont plan for this to be a shipping fic, dream team, dystopian au, i didnt even plan for this to be a dystopia i just asked my friends what to turn this into lmao, idk what to tag this i havent written fanfics regularly in years oOP, probably angst at least
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-25
Updated: 2020-12-03
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:49:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27716365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rhapsoddity/pseuds/Rhapsoddity
Summary: Dream has everything he could need in the facility, his own room, regular food on the table and government endorsed entertainment and recreation. What else could one want? Dream, well, dreams of something more, away from the stark cold white of the facility.When his quarters is broken into by a trio strangely familiar faces, his everyday life is turned upsidedown. Dream is on the run, he doesn't know what he should believe and who he should trust. How long can he keep running?
Comments: 11
Kudos: 77





	1. White

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time writing seriously in a long time, so forgive me for how short the chapters will be :( Im working my writing stamina back up rip

Flames licked around the fresh log that had been added to the campfire, slowly but gradually consuming it and becoming another part of the fire. The flames danced, shifting across the wood as it burned, illuminating the clearing and filling the air with the familiar smell of burning spruce. The heat was stifling, everyone a bit to close to the campfire, but it was a welcome contrast to the cold that had arrived as night set in. 

Dream shifted slightly, shielding his face from the brunt of the closest heat as he leant into the touch of a hand in his hair. He'd been leaning on the other person, and eventually slumped from shoulder to lap. He didn't mean to, but he had been drifting in and out of focus, exhausted from the day. They didn't seem to mind, slowly and gently continuing to pet Dream's hair. It honestly hindered his ability to stay awake, but he wasn't going to stop them, it felt nice and relaxing.

"Awww does he like the head scritches?" A voice cooed from over the other side of the fire, obscured by the flames.

"Leave him alone!" The head scritches paused for a second as he spoke, before resuming. "The dude is exhausted, let him have this-"

Another voice called out, also from the other side of the fire.

"Why don't I get head scritches Geo-"

"I may have two hands, but I will kick your ass into the fire if you come over here and disturb him."

"Betrayal! Snnkk I thought you loved us~"

"I don't see you two barely staying awake." 

Dream was desperately trying to stay with it, but the combination of the warmth and the comfort, well… it's no surprise he eventually slipped under. 

  
  


**_BEEP. BEEP. BEEP._ **

  
  


And was abruptly awoken by the shrill noise of his alarm. Ugh. Dream groggily reached out to silence the alarm, missing it. Damn, out of reach. He was warm and comfortable, grasping at the remnants of the dream quickly seeping away. However, no matter how snuggly he was, he had to get up sooner or later. Reluctantly he pushed his covers away, shifting to sit up and actually end the alarm. Electing to get up sooner meant he wouldn’t get reprimanded, and he honestly wasn’t awake enough to want to deal with that. 

Dream shuffled his way to the bathroom, not wanting to lose any more of his heat to the cold tiles of his living quarters. Really he should be following the guidelines of the facility, to clean up his looks and take his pills before leaving to go for breakfast. Was he bothered to do that? Oh absolutely not. The most he did was comb his hair back to look “neat”. He hated having it pushed back like that, his hair had a mind of its own and if he was going to comply he had to constantly be fixing it, it was a pain. Better than nothing I guess though.

Honestly, Dream just wanted warmth and food now, and food had to wait; he couldn’t exactly go out there like this. He grabbed a white shirt and matching slacks out of his dresser, hoping they’d make him a little warmer. He’d prefer a hoodie or even a jacket, but those weren’t permitted so he’d have to live with what he had access to I guess. Before leaving he grabbed his mask. This was the only part of the almost uniform that he liked. It was far easier to hide his reactions and expressions when his face was completely covered. For all anyone else knew he could be smiling wide underneath the entire time. With how… uncovered his clothes made him feel, he was happy to have one comfort to wear.

He straightened up as he left his living quarters, idly glancing about to see how long the breakfast queue was this morning. On the other end of the hall, the people were lined up, Dream figured the line only went past a few other resident’s doors that it was just before the breakfast rush. Good thing he got up then. Just as he was about to join the queue when one of the residents living closer to the cafeteria slipped out of his room and slipped right in front of him in the queue. It was only one spot ahead of him, and although Dream was hungry, as long as the guy didn’t get in the way of Dream and his food. He glanced at the code beside the guy’s door. 9R: 1AN. Grian gingerly gave him a little wave before turning around and waiting silently like everyone else.

Damn you Grian for making him wait the tiniest bit longer.

Dream didn’t actually know anyone’s name in the facility. They were discouraged from socialising, so Dream had settled for trying to create nicknames for the people he came across using the identification codes assigned to each of them. That’s what he had done for his own name, translated his DR: 34M into Dream. If there were numbers that were easily replaced with letters it was easy to make names like, some made less sense than others. It’s not like anyone knew he was naming them. Honestly, he wasn’t even sure how they made the codes, there wasn’t a consistent length or letter to number order. Some were short, like 3R: ET, while others were really long and barely fit on the plaque, like T3: CN08L4D3. It really didn’t matter, but Dream liked having food for thought while he waited, made the time pass quicker.

Within a few minutes, the queue had extended significantly behind him and Dream was almost into the cafeteria. After grabbing a tray of whatever bland food they were serving today, Dream made his way to the corner of the room to eat alone. Despite not socialising with anyone really, cliques formed in here, and Dream wanted none of it. He wouldn’t chase off anyone who wanted to sit with him, but that was always few and far between, but no one ever stayed. He could live with that.

To avoid the rest of the breakfast rush, Dream made a beeline to the facility’s gym to knock out his day’s workout early on. It was pretty quiet in there, only a couple of people exercising this early on, meaning Dream could pick and choose what workout machines to use to his leisure. He picked up a pair of headphones provided by the gym entrance and hopped onto a treadmill, turning both of them on. He quickly fell into the beat of his feet hitting the machine, and his brain emptied except for the words on full blast in his ears.

_ Compliance is good. _

_ You like being good. _

_ Smile. _

_ You are happy here. _

_ Just trust us, we know best. _

_ You know nothing but being good. _

_ Be good. _

This was only a fraction of what was being drilled into Dream’s brain. It was nothing strange, this was the normal track playing, indoctrinating the mantra into the residents until their behaviour and compliance were deemed good enough to be introduced back into society. And before he even knew it the track stopped, and he snapped back into focus, slowing the treadmill down to a halt. A glance at the clock told him hed been at this for an hour. Not bad, usually his legs would start to ache before the track had finished.

Out of breath and sweaty, Dream returned the headphones to their spot and returned back to his room to freshen up. The cold water spraying against his body was a welcome wake up to his wavering focus, shifting his thoughts from the mantra to the dream he’d had, little bits still remaining from it. He’d heard plenty of people’s voices in the facility, and none of them sounded anything like anyone he knew of here. He couldn’t shake that they sounded familiar. But from where? That escaped him. The location too… that wasn’t in the facility. A fire? You’d be heavily reprimanded for one of those, especially at night when it’d be the most obvious. But where was that dream set then? If felt almost like a memory, except for the fact he couldn’t recall ever visiting any forests…

Dream almost slipped at a siren went off, it catching him off guard before he rolled his eyes. Just perfect, of course, there was a panic alarm drill when he was still in the shower. He didn’t take it seriously, it wasn’t like there was anything to ever panic about or run from here. So Dream took his sweet time in there, he wasn’t gonna rush when there was nothing to worry about.

Dream finished off showering, returning to the main area of his living quarters to change into some clean clothes again. It was the same old routine, but Dream was content...right? He had everything he was told he’d ever need here. So why did he feel like he had something missing? He didn’t like doubting the authority but something had never sat right in him here. Was he that bad that his own mind didn’t want him to become good as everyone else strived to here?

Dream shook the thoughts out of his head. No. He wasn’t gonna get into that spiral of thoughts right now. He took a towel to his hair, humming to himself as he dried his hair, almost missing the yelling from outside his room. Was a fight breaking out? Those occasionally happened, especially when someone was resisting being compliant. Honestly, drama like that made the days seem less same-y, but they were few and far between. Interesting timing though, right during the panic alarm. Maybe they were refusing to go to their room and follow protocol? At any rate, at least he was in his room and wouldn’t be involved in that. There was glass and wall to separate them.

Yeah about that thought; at that moment he thought about it, the darkened glass section of the wall beside the door shattered.

**_Oh shit._ **


	2. Grey

Dream was suddenly very glad he’d already put on trousers before he’d started drying his hair. Windows shattering in here was unheard of, he couldn’t think of anything strong enough to break one of the thick windows. Yet, here they were with it scattered over his living area. Now he understood why the panic alarm was going off. For once, it wasn’t a drill. There was a reason to panic. On seeing the movement of someone about to come through the newly opened hole, Dream dropped the towel from his head and made a dash for the panic room, where he should’ve been this entire time if he had been sticking to protocol instead of showering.

His initial hesitation was his downfall, as within a couple of steps his face was greeted by the cold hard floor. Ow-  _ And then a familiar voice? _

“George! Bad! He’s in here!”

Dream flailed a little on the floor, unable to get up, before realising the reason he fell was that his legs were tangled in... a fishing rod??? He didn't dwell on the questioning long, he had to focus on getting free before his assailant got to him. At least he didn’t manage to fall nearby any of the glass shards. The longer he took, the more at risk he would be. What did they want with him? To kill Dream? To kidnap him, test on him? Dream couldn't say he'd been scared in a long time, but right now? He was struggling to keep his cool. Just as he freed himself from the rod, he sensed someone come up behind him. Dream tensed up.

“Are you-”

Before the assailant could finish his sentence, Dream swung his legs around swiftly, knocking the guy over who yelped in pain. He was taken aback by how… different he looked. The guy wasn't dressed in full crisp white like anyone else in the facility. Sure he was wearing some white, but this outfit was absolutely against guidelines.

Groaning in pain and surprise on the floor beside Dream, the assailant was in a black turtleneck with a loose white shirt over top, not fully buttoned up (definitely a big no-no in the facility), tucked into a pair of black trousers. Round the guy's head was a white bandana, his jet black hair hanging loose over the front of it. Dream snapped himself away from taking in this peculiar appearance, he needed to go. Now!

Dream scrambled up, narrowly missing getting grabbed by the leg by the guy still on the floor. At a sharp glance at the shattered hole, his panic rose. Two more guys were climbing through. One on one? Dream could handle that easily. But three on one? Really now that was just unfair.

“He’s getting away!”

_ Shit. Shit. Shit. _

Dream sprinted for the panic room, an almost box room off from the side of his living quarters. It was packed with emergency clothing, a mask, rations, and what he assumed was communication devices. He’d never really paid attention in the drill briefings, so he had no clue how to make them work, but at least he’d be able to get fully dressed. He could hear the rushed footsteps behind him and wasted no time slipping through the wide-open door, slamming it shut behind him. His panic bubbled up as he fumbled to lock the door. He was safe in here right?

However… Dream froze and turned around at the sound of another familiar voice.

_ “Clay!” _

Where did he know that voice from? The name too… he couldn’t place for the life of him where he recognised it from. The owner of the voice ran to the door, jiggling the handle to no avail, looking through the door’s window to Dream.

Dream narrowed his eyes. He couldn't see much of this new person through the window. But the sweep of brown hair? The big round goggles on top of his head? He looked even less like he was from the facility, he had actual colours to him, Dream could see a peek of some sort of blue shirt in the window. His head began to hurt, his memories not answering his search for why he felt like he knew this guy. He held eye contact, green to brown, hoping to get his confusion across. 

Why him? Why now? He’d been happy enough in the facility for the last 6 months, why did today make any difference? Why not a different facility, or a different resident? Dream wasn’t special. The most he could hold to his name was his endurance on his work-out runs, but that wasn’t anything to brag about. Nothing to get attacked about. Dream sighed in his stress, pushing his hair out of his face.

“Clay?” The guy frowned wide-eyed, putting a hand to the glass gently. Dream had the urge to put his hand over his. “Why are you running from us?”

Dream’s brow furrowed, cocking his head slightly. Why did he keep calling him Clay? That wasn’t his name. His name… was DR: 34M! It had always been Dream… right? He would remember if he had another name........ _right???_

“Who the _fuck_ is Clay?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this one is shorter than the first chapter! but oOp i did binge write this in one sitting


	3. Green

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you sm for all the support so far with this fic!!!   
> a pre-warning for ppl who need content warning; this chapter features a panic attack and mentions of starvation!  
> we finally get a littol angst

He looked shocked and worried at Dream’s question. It was evident that Dream not knowing who “Clay” was… was not anticipated. 

“ _Language_!”

Dream watched as the man at the window turned away, catching him giving whoever said that a “ _??? dude, not the tiME_ ” look.

Dream on the other hand panicked when he realised he had sworn. In his head sure he swore all the time, it's not like he could be told off for that. It was a normal part of his internal vocabulary, but out loud? Under surveillance? Oh man, he was definitely going to get punished. Dream immediately put a hand to his mouth, wide-eyed. NO no no, he had been doing so good, he'd been behaving, he’d been complying. Dream was a good resident!

…

_ Right? _

The guy’s attention snapped back to Dream, immediately worrying over him again, as it was clear to anyone now that Dream was freaking out, mind spiralling. Dream wasn’t focused on the intruders anymore, he was more worried about what punishment he was going to be given. Last time he’d fallen out of line, several months back, the facility’s council cut him off of food for two weeks. Oh, he NEVER wanted to go back to that. 

_He’d stopped being able to sleep, stopped retaining heat, constantly exhausted and hungry-_ Dream cut himself off of that train of thought. He didn’t want to relive those weeks in his head. He’d survived them, sure, but it was rough and had left a lasting effect on him mentally. He was petrified of messing up and getting punished, he wasn’t sure what punishments were in the facility’s arsenal, but he was sure he didn’t want to find out. He’d been punished a lot when he first came to the facility, but he’d already buried those memories, the probable trauma locked away so he didn’t have to think about it. Dream hadn’t noticed but he was shaking.

“Cla- dude can you hear me?”

Dream didn’t respond, he barely noticed that the boy had spoken. To most people swearing didn’t mean that much, but to Dream, who was trying not to freak out as it was, especially in the facility where you got for a lack of a better word  _ hurt _ if you got caught swearing... it was the straw that broke the camels back. Dream lost balance a little and stumbled back into the back wall of the room that he slumped against for support.

“George what’s going on?”

  
“He- Shit, I think he’s having a panic attack?” George jiggled the handle again to no avail, “I can’t get in there, and I especially don’t want him to get worse-”

Dream only picked up on the _“Get worse”_ through his still spiralling thoughts. Was Dream bad? His main purpose, his goal in life here was to be good. Getting worse meant...that he was already bad. What had he done wrong? Were those people sent in as a punishment? Did Dream get too bad and they were here to put him down? Dream curled in on himself. He hated feeling this vulnerable. A breakdown like this was long overdue, he hadn’t snapped in so long, but that didn’t make experiencing them any nicer.

George started to hear mechanics whirring, honestly beginning to panic himself on how to get Dream out of there without upsetting him more and knowing noises meant something was going to happen and he had little time to act.

“Hey, hey we’re gonna get you o-”

_ And then the panic room dropped.  _

Not dramatically and fast, but it did start descending, the room being a box actually separate to the room, sectioned off with a wall. Dream didn’t notice the movement at first, still lost in his mind. The trio up in Dream’s room were freaking out. _They- they didn’t plan for this!_ They had figured out where Dream was, sure. But his room moving him away? They had to figure out how to track him and fast.

After a short while of the room lowering, it stopped, clicking into a different mechanism. On the tail end of his panic, Dream looked around curiously as a car engine rumbled to life. Wait… an engine??? Dream stood up, albeit shakily, and cupped his hands back to the door’s window. The area was dark, but what Dream could make out, it looked like he had been transported into some parking garage for the facility? He’d never been here before, but it was easy but two and two together; his room had been broken into, the window broken, so he was being relocated.

All this time Dream had been shirtless, rather exposed, though he’d been far too preoccupied with the intruders to worry about that. Now, as the vehicle began to move, his self-consciousness finally hit. He flicked through the supplies in the panic room, getting a fresh shirt on, before being intrigued by the mask provided. All the masks in the facility had been normal face masks that only covered his nose and mouth. This mask? It was almost more of a costume piece. It was a full face mask, the front having a smiling face. On putting it on, he found that the eyes on the front of the mask were positioned to look out of, a dark mesh obscuring his eyes from others seeing where he was looking.

His curiosity over this new mask was interrupted as the room lurched, Dream scrambling to keep his balance. What the hell? He ran to the door, to see smoke coming from the vehicle’s direction. Instinct barged past Dream’s compliance to the protocol, and after grabbing all the rations the panic room, he unlocked the door and hopped out.

He could see the problem on leaving the room. Several of the wheels had been shot out, and the driver’s window had been shattered- Dream immediately looked away. So much had happened in the past hour and he didn’t have the capacity right now to unpack all that, so he turned around and pretended that everything was fine, that the driver was definitely absolutely alive in there-

Now Dream took in his surroundings. They were some way out from the city the facility was situated in, “The End”, close enough to see three figures at the city’s entrance, one holding what Dream would only guess was a gun from this distance. They were still after him?? George  _ had _ said that they were gonna  _ get him _ , but he couldn’t have guessed they’d chase him this far, away from the facility. 

Dream honestly was scared. So he ran. The opposite direction to The End was a forest that the vehicle had been driving parallel to, so he ran for that. He may have been barefoot, but it was the best way to lose them. The crunch of the undergrowth beneath his feet was comforting, almost familiar. Although he was blindly running through the trees, he couldn’t deny he almost felt at home out here, which was strange considering he’d never been here before. He followed his nose, weaving around trees until his attention was drawn to a large oak off to the side of his route. He wasn’t sure why he was drawn to it, but with only a little poking around he found… a box? It had been lightly buried in the roots of the tree but it was easily recoverable. Inside was warmer clothing; a pair of worn jeans, a dark turtleneck and a soft-looking green hoodie. They were just what he wanted to wear… but the facility wouldn’t allow such individuality. He hesitated for a moment, listening out for his pursuers, before quickly slipping the clothes on and reburying the cashe with his old clothes, but he kept the mask, for comfort.

Not a second too soon he heard movement and scrambled to hide. There was a refuge in a nearby tree with lots of tightly packed branches, an easy camouflage considering his new clothes. He was right to hide because the trio walked into view.

“Look! The cashe has been disturbed!”

George rolled his eyes.

“ _Anyone_ could have raided Clay’s old emergency box Nick.”

The guy who had attacked Dream first back in his room - Nick - shook his head.

“I told you he’d head straight here given a chance to get out of those End uniforms! Believe me, he can’t have gotten far.”

The third guy, who Dream hadn’t ben able to see in the facility but was presumably “Bad” piped up.

“George we can’t give up hope quite yet,” He smiled softly, giving George a reassuring pat on his back, “We’ll get him back, I promise you.”

Dream’s breath caught in his throat on seeing this third guy. They were a far redder tone than he was familiar with, and somewhat obstructed by a pair of shades, but he’d recognise those purple glowing eyes anywhere. They struck fear into Dream, he associated them with getting taken away and restrained for his facility punishments.

One of his hunters had the eyes of one of the men from The End.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :3c  
> Genuinely just below Dream is BBH for being my favourite character to develop for this,,, he actually has ~lore~ to him  
> ...  
> and yes I struggled to word that at the end to not straight up say Enderman SJSJKNJKNSJKN


End file.
